#like whe someone says 'so and so is really arrogant' it takes me a long time to identify what exactly makes them arrogant?

[annadelveys]

i got some #feedback on myself recently which was ridiculously good but also makes me feel like the worlds worst impostor... first my friend's new boyfriend told her that he felt really comfortable with me because I have such a "strong personality" and am so sure of myself that when he was feeling anxious he could always just kind of hide with me and have me as his hashtag safe space when she (his gf) wasn't around & that I was really kind to him (which I find ridiculous because my number one anxiety is that I have no real personality and fear that im boring and unlikeable most of the time & also the event he's referring to was mid at best I was tired and moody and honestly not at my best so to hear this about myself on that particular evening feels made up).

then the same friend told me that im being too nice and kind to people and go out of my way to help them which like. yeah. but I also feel like that's just how we all should be and I don't want to sound like a "ooo I do so much for the others where is my medal" like i don't do this out of some goodness or kindness of my heart (assuming that that's something that actually exists? i truly do not understand how personality works) i do it because i assume that that's how things should be done and feel like a failure if i dont. anyways im not posting this to have people agree with any of this, im just truly baffled that anyone said something like this. because. i dont understand how these things work.

#i truly cannot evaluate people like this... like i see everyone as a concept #and i cant list their characteristics #like whe someone says 'so and so is really arrogant' it takes me a long time to identify what exactly makes them arrogant? #im not talking fringe cases obviously #txt

[dweetwise]

Pre Entity Evan gets taken by the Entity as a survivor. Ends up having the hots for David.

this is the oldest ask in my inbox and i’ve been working on it on and off for months. it’s much shorter than i’d planned but i really struggled writing evan. i hope you’ll find something you like in it nonetheless!

ship: evan x david warnings: descriptions of violence and blood word count: 2060

Survivor!Evan X David: Tooth and nail

Evan wakes up in the woods next to the estate in the middle of the night. He feels strange; not hungover like he expected after apparently blacking out, but like there's a fog surrounding his brain. Kind of like he was dreaming.

Evan usually doesn't have dreams, and he sure as hell doesn't lucid dream. This feels strangely realistic for a dream, even though most of the specifics are… off. There's remnants of destroyed structures that don't exist, and an unnatural fog surrounding the trees. Something tells him he needs to be careful, dream or not.

Evan spots movement between some rocks. He can barely make out the figure of a man, a scrawny one dressed in mining clothes and darting his eyes around as if keeping a lookout for someone.

Why is there a worker milling about the woods at night? Did he drug Evan? Is he planning to rob the estate?

The man spots him and his eyes widen before he takes off in a sprint.

“Thief! Get back here!” Evan yells, running after the scoundrel.

It’s hard to track the man in the middle of the night, darting between rocks and trees and almost causing Evan to lose him several times. Why does it feel like the thief knows Evan’s home better than him?

At least, after a merry chase ending in one of the estate’s toolsheds, the man finally seems to stop. Evan approaches from an angle he doesn’t expect and the scoundrel doesn’t spot him, pressing himself up against the shack wall to peek around a corner in the opposite direction.

Evan’s heart starts beating louder from adrenaline as he carefully approaches the lowlife, readying to tackle him to the ground—

And promptly screaming out in pain at a sharp sting in his back. Shit, looks like he walked right into a trap!

He whips around to face the perpetrator, a short man wearing a skull mask and dressed in all black, calmly wiping his bloodied knife on his sleeve after stabbing Evan.

“You’ll regret that," Evan snarls, hands balling into fists as he readies to strike—

And promptly falls on his face with a scream as his assailant’s knife slashes him in the chest.

Evan lays on the damp grass in shock, bringing a shaking hand to touch the wound, feeling a worrying amount of blood gushing out of it. How is it bleeding so heavily? Did he hit an artery? Why can’t he get back up?

His shock turns further into confusion as he feels himself being hoisted up on the scrawny man’s shoulder like he weighs nothing.

“Unhand me!” he demands, regaining some of his strength to kick and punch at the attacker carrying him away without even so much as a grunt of effort. “When my father hears about this, you’re going to wish you were dead!”

The criminal has the audacity to snort, like the humiliation of getting overpowered and carried around like a sack of potatoes by a man half his size wasn’t enough of a hit to Evan’s pride.

Before he can give the brat a piece of his mind, he’s suddenly lifted upright, yelping out a curse from the sudden vertigo—

And then screaming until it feels like his lungs are giving out, because something sharp pierces through his shoulder with a wet squelch and sickening crunch, and Evan thinks he might actually die because it burns like nothing he’s ever experienced before.

He thinks his body goes into some sort of shock, because when he comes to, he’s limply hanging from what looks to be a hook in his shoulder, like a pig left to bleed out in a slaughterhouse. The blood gushing out from the gaping wound has stained the entirety of his left side red, his shirt clinging wetly to his torso.

Evan grits his teeth against his quickening, panicked breaths, new determination coursing through him. He’s not about to die like an animal without even fighting back.

With no sign of either the criminal who stabbed him or the thief who lured him into the trap, Evan raises his arms behind him to grip the hook’s base with shaking hands. He starts lifting himself up, choking on a pained gasp as the rusty hook drags through the wound in his shoulder. Just a little more—

The blood on his hands causes his grip to slip and Evan wails as gravity makes him sink right back down on the hook, the pain feeling somehow even worse than before, irritating the raw, angry wound.

He takes a couple of shallow breaths, blinking the blurriness from his vision. He knows he doesn’t have long, the blood loss starting to hit him in full force. His entire body protests the movement as he lifts his hands back up to grab the hook—

“Oi, knock it out!”

This time, Evan’s grip slips before he can even try to dislodge himself from the crude torture stand, the surprise of hearing an unfamiliar voice enough to make him lose focus. Shit, did his assailant return to finish the job?

Instead of a masked hooligan, Evan makes out the frame of another man in working clothes, approaching him with an urgency in his step despite glaring daggers at Evan.

“Ya lookin’ ta get yerself killed with a stunt like ‘at?” the man spits, but before Evan has a chance to reply he’s reaching up and effortlessly lifting him off of the hook. Evan hisses from the sting of the rusty metal sliding through his injury, but it’s nothing compared to the elation he feels to be free from the awful contraption.

“Yer new, right?” the stranger grunts, seeming awfully hostile for someone who just saved his life, chewing on the butt of an unlit cigarette. “’M gonna patch ya up, just this once.”

Without waiting for his reply, the man pulls out a roll of bandages and starts applying them over the heavily bleeding gash in his shoulder. He’s a little rough but Evan doesn’t care, the uncomfortable treatment much preferable to dying.

There’s a million questions running through Evan’s mind. Where is his attacker? What do the criminals want? Why does the estate look different? Why was he unable to fight back against a man half his size?

“Who are you?” Evan asks instead.

His reluctant helper snorts, seeming amused by his question.

“Bleedin’ out from a meathook an’ that’s what ya ask?” the man huffs, his mustache quirking up in a half-smile. “Ya can call me King.”

‘King’? Evan almost wants to snort in amusement and disbelief. This man he’s never seen before, in common working clothes and trespassing on Evan’s family’s property, would call himself something so arrogant?

“What an unfitting name,” Evan says.

Immediately, the bandages are tightened almost painfully around his shoulder.

“Wha’ was ‘at?” the man, “King”, grits out through clenched teeth, anger laced in his words.

Maybe Evan shouldn’t pick a fight with the man who just saved his life and who is the only thing currently stopping him from bleeding out.

“Do you know where the attacker is?” Evan asks instead, barely able to swallow his pride in exchange for living to see another day.

The bandages loosen just the tiniest bit as the man gets back to work.

“Dunno,” King spits, clearly not happy with the situation but not getting up to leave him for dead, either. “E’ll be back, though. They always come back.”

“Good,” Evan says, something dark bubbling up in his chest. Revenge. “This time he’s not taking me by surprise.”

“You wot—” King exclaims in surprise, before sighing angrily. “Yer not takin’ ‘im!”

“I didn’t even get a chance to fight back before,” Evan argues. “He’s a runt, I can easily win, knife or not.”

“Mate, I’m tellin’ ya!” King argues. “Ya can’t win against none of these.”

“Then help me,” Evan challenges, looking over his shoulder at the man. He’s seen King’s type before, tense and angry but more than enough capable of holding his own in a fight. He looks to be in good shape, biceps flexing while he secures the last of the bandages around Evan’s shoulder.

“It don’t work ‘at way,” King says, anger finally giving way to something more pensive. “No matter how many o’ us, they always win.”

“Then I’m going alone,” Evan decides, breaking the eye contact to try to hide the sudden feeling of rejection.

“What the—!" King grunts in frustration. “Ya deaf or somethin’!? I just told ya—”

“Thanks for the help,” Evan interrupts, brushing off the angry concerns and getting up on his feet. “Now get the fuck off my property.”

“Like hell I’m lettin’ ya walk to yer death!” King yells, ignoring the command and coming to stand before Evan to scream right in his face. “Yer comin’ with me, end o’ story!”

“I don’t take orders,” Evan shoots right back, glaring at the man. There’s only one person on this Earth who has the ability to boss him around like a dog, and it sure as hell isn’t this obnoxious—and annoyingly attractive—loudmouth.

King lets out a sound that can only be described at unbridled rage at his uncooperativeness. The man clearly isn’t used to being challenged like this, most people probably content to cower under his demanding aura, the hostile stare and muscular arms shaking from barely contained fury not painting the most welcoming picture.

Luckily, Evan is not like most people, and the threat of a fist fight doesn’t phase him in the slightest.

“Fine,” King finally says and Evan fails to mask the surprise on his features.

“What?”

“I said fine,” King spits, growing annoyed again. “Just try ta in a few good punches on the wanker before ‘e kills us.”

“Try to have a little more faith in me,” Evan scoffs, offended that the man thinks he would lose two fights in a row.

It turns out, King had much more faith in Evan than he should have, because even between the two of them they barely get a punch each on Evan’s assailant before they’re both bleeding on the ground in agony and the perpetrator is still completely unscathed.

Evan’s fear of dying is partly replaced by annoyance when King just grumbles an obnoxious “told ya” while being carried to a meat hook. But it’s the man’s complete nonchalance over their impending doom, along with the muttered “see ya soon, mate” that throws Evan for a loop. Even as the rusty metal reopens the wound in his shoulder and has his screaming in agony, he can’t help but adapt some of King’s indifferent attitude, not fighting it when his vision fades to black

Eventually, the darkness gives way to light, as the dim orange glow of a fire emerges in Evan’s field of view. He’s never believed in the afterlife, but something is telling him to approach the light and his feet carry him forward unconsciously.

As he gets closer, he sees there’s people at the fire; men and women, young and old, dressed in clothing Evan has never seen before. Some are laughing and others are arguing, Evan not knowing whether he should make his presence known or not, standing in the shadows.

And then he sees the thief from the estate who lured him into the trap.

“You got scared of a survivor?” one of the women is laughing.

“I didn’t say that!” the thief protests.

“Now now, he could have been like… a really scary survivor!” a boy grins.

“G-guys…” a young woman’s eyes meet Evans, approaching the perimeter of the campfire, glaring daggers at the group.

“Holy shit! He’s huge!” someone gasps.

“See? You would’ve ran too!” the thief argues, pointing a finger at Evan.

Oh, he’s going to enjoy breaking that finger to teach the bastard a lesson—

“Oi!”

A voice Evan recognizes carries through the small campsite, snapping him out of his plot for vengeance. King is strolling up to join the commotion, ignoring the hesitant eyes from the rest of the group flitting between him and Evan.

“Glad’ta see ya back, newbie,” King says, offering Evan a smug smirk, before gesturing to the rest of the small campsite. “Welcome to hell.”

“It’s Evan,” Evan corrects, not dignifying the rest of his claims with a response. His day just keeps getting stranger by the minute, but at least there’s a familiar face proving he’s not among the enemy.

King extends a hand toward him, the smirk never leaving his face.

“David.”

#dbd fanfic #evan macmillan #david king #dbd trapper #kingmillan #that's a ship name now #dweetwrites #dbd #dead by daylight #request #blood tw #violence cw

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Run Devil Run [Chapter Four] Lesser of Two Evils [Karma Akabane]

Like instructed, Yukie went out on Saturday to meet up with Karma. He was outside the station waiting on her, she concluded, resting his back against the wall outside the station, too occupied with his cell phone to notice her steadily approaching. She immediately made herself known by standing in front of him and waving in his face.

Once their eyes met, she smiled gently.

“Not too bad, right?” Yukie gave him a slow turn and allowed him the chance to look her over.

Karma was honestly surprised; she wore down her ivory hair in adorable curls and painted her lips a glossy pink.

“Color me impressed. There is actually a cute girl beneath all that denim and plaid.”

She puffed out her cheeks in aggravation. “Maybe you just didn’t notice because you’re an idiot.”

“Sticks and stones,” Karma rebuked with a shrug. He slid his cell phone into the pocket of his black jeans and stepped away from the wall, coming to a halt beside her. The naïve pout on her face only made his smile widen.

Yukie saw this and rolled her eyes. She turned her attention to the front of the station and puckered her brow. Why did he want her to meet him here? Taito was a famous game center in Shinjuku; otherwise a hotspot for teenagers rolling in their parent’s money. She had a hunch as to why, but knowing the red head, she figured she’d better humor him by asking questions.

“What are we doing here? I know that you have some elaborate plan cooked up. This is just a cover, right?”

“And you say we are not always on the same wavelength; thick as thieves. But I’m glad you asked,” Karma remarked teasingly. He took her by the hand and began to pull her into the center, much to her dismay. Karma led her to a claw machine and slid behind her, pointing over her shoulder at an item to the back of the glass case. “I want that.”

He was referring to a game console with an emerald green covering. It was the only handheld left, but Yukie was certain Karma already owned one. She snorted in amusement. “Avarice is a sin, you know? I can only imagine what you plan to do with two.”

“I had originally planned to sell it off to some poor idiot for more than I bought it for, but I decided I’d rather you have it. We can play together via connect, instead of you trying to be a backseat gamer,” Karma stated. He really couldn’t stand that.

Yukie felt her face heat up. He really has it in his head that he and I are going to continue seeing each other. She wasn’t doing much to protest against this idea, but she also didn’t want to be seen with him and jeopardize her shot at making it big. It sounded terrible – like she had no heart – but aspiring for more was better than going back to what she had; absolutely nothing.

But, that was a completely different story.

As of right now, Yukie was finding it hard to believe that Karma would test his luck and his money just to get her that handheld. The chances of him wining were not in his favor; about 30 percent. Weight and size of the item were two opposing factors he needed to be careful of.

“I don’t know, Karma. It doesn’t look easy. Neither of us really have the money to waste either.”

“You don’t believe that I can do it?”

She frowned; of course she did. Something like this, however, was pushing it. The thought was all that mattered to her, but deep down she wanted one of her own. No more watching over his shoulder or waiting for him to die just so that she could get a turn. Yukie felt awful, because she wanted Karma to know that she would never doubt him. Before she opened her mouth to answer him, however, he rudely interrupted her.

“No problem, because I don’t think an idiot like me can do it either. That’s why I’m not going to.”

“Then how are you going to get it?” Yukie narrowed her eyes in annoyance. He was really something else.

“Someone else is,” he clarified with a grin.

Yukie puckered her brow.

She can be so clueless sometimes. Karma huffed a sigh of displeasure; good thing he liked her. “Guess I better explain it to you. So, while I was on suspension I came here just about every weekend and wrote down all of the games that raked in the most cash, on top of the prizes that drew the most attention; I wasn’t lying when I said I was going to sell them off at a higher price.”

His smile never faltered as he continued. “Unfortunately, a no talent fool like me doesn’t have the skill for such a plan, or the money to waste on it.”

“It’s not like you just to give up,” Yukie pointed out. Her eyes met his for a brief second. “So … out with it then. Who is the sucker?”

Clever girl, he thought with a controlled laugh. “Hide is his name, and he is something of a legend around here. Then again, the only ones who call him that are delinquents. His sister is the operator who adjusts the catchers, and whenever Lucky Hide wants something, he just takes poor old sister’s master key and takes it. No one has ever seen him do it, but he was nice enough to tipped me off – I have a way with words.”

She wasn’t buying this. Even so, there was nothing to be done about it now. Like she had said before; no matter the cost, Karma always got what he wanted. It would take something equivalent to a nuclear blast to stop him.

“So we ask. Then what? He just gives hands it over to us for no charge at all?”

Karma shook in disagreement. “A tool like him; no way. He will ask for something in return. Equivalent exchange right? And I know just what to offer him.”

She was curious now. Yukie wanted to know, but once again, before she had the chance to ask, he took her soft hand and led her further into the center. Karma stopped near a relatively new machine with bright flashing lights and pulled her close. Anyone else and she would have knocked them out.

“He might try to run if he sees me,” he explained once she narrowed her eyes at him. Gesturing with his finger, he continued. “That’s him over there; the one with the beanie.”

Yukie took a peak. The teen was strangely everything that she had expected him to be; a delinquent with a loud mouth and a fierce appearance. She frowned in annoyance as she watched him natter offensively with his just as crude seeming friend. Others around shot them uncanny looks, but they ignored it.

I know the sort of angle he’s playing. Drop in a seemingly attentive girl and even guys like this will do anything to impress her.

It made sense now. Karma asked her to wear something girlie for him; girlie and cute was Hide’s type.

“This kind of tactic is called honey potting; it’s a mean way for a person to get what they want,” she explained with a sigh. “But, he’s a mean person for using his father’s position as an employee of this center to steal what he wants.”

“You up for it? Our little game.”

I stopped playing these retaliation games a long time ago. Karma just has no empathy for others, no matter how unclear the situation is. She was no saint either. At one time she loved to play too. Karma gave her all the attention and all the praise she thought she ever needed. It was wrong, but she loved it. Just once more … but on my terms.

“Appeal to his interests. Is that the angle?”

Karma smirked – he was a little devil; so clever and manipulative. “That’s right. And the objective is the lesson. The console is just a bonus.”

She faked an innocent smile. “Tell me everything you know.”

--

From the information she was given, Yukie built a quick profile for her character. She knew that Hide liked cute girls; defiant was too strong an approach to take. Dimwitted was too annoying – she honestly didn’t have the tolerance for this one anyway – but easy to impress was right on the money.

This was poles apart from her actual personality, but she knew that she could do it; she was fairly good at playing roles. Her brief performance in the last school play was said to have been very convincing. All it took was a little inspiration to draw from, and given that she had friends with two very different personalities, she had this in the bag.

Timing was all she needed at this point.

Yukie waited in hiding until Hide’s yellow haired friend won an object from the claw machine and sprung. She could work with this, even though Hide was not the one who had won. Timidly she approached them, coming to a rest behind the target of her mission, and tapped him on the shoulder. An expression of admiration twinkled in her eyes.

“Sorry to bother you but could either of you tell me whe––

She purposely cut herself off and redirected her eyes to the small toy in the yellow haired teen’s grasp. “Oh wow! You won something from one of these things? I’ve never had the talent.”

He took the bait and smiled with a hint of arrogance. “You bet, sweetheart. It only cost me a single swipe from my player’s card.”

“More like his entire savings,” Hide snorted.

His embarrassed friend shot him a scowl. “Lay off man. Not in front of the babe.”

“I’m impressed,” Yukie lied. “The chances of winning one of these machines is pretty low. I hardly ever waste my time on them, even though the prizes inside are to die for.”

Hide smiled; she was too cute. “It’s all talent. I bet I could win you anything in here for the right price.”

Now it was her turn to act embarrassed. She held her breath a few seconds until her face warmed up, then shook her head. “For me? That’s really nice and all … but I don’t want to be a nuisance. You see I was looking for my friend; he told me he’d be in and out, but it’s been nearly 20 minutes since I last saw him.”

His smile widened. “I totally understand. It’s hard to pull away from this place; the games are pretty fun. But hey … I can wait near the entrance with you until he shows – maybe even get to know you a little better.”  

Yukie gently laughed. She locked her arms behind her back and shifted her hips naively. “I’d appreciate that. You did offer me a prize after all; I know just the one.”

“Lead the way, babe.”

She took his hand and led him over to the machine she and Karma were in front of earlier. Fortunately, the game console was still inside.

I know what I have to do, she thought with a frown. It was the lesser of two evils. But man do I want it.

With a low groan, Yukie forced another smile and laid her finger against the glass.

“That’s the one; the emerald handheld. I’d do just about anything to get my hands on it.”

Hide knotted his brows. This would be a challenge. Did he really want to do this? She seemed like such a sweet and innocent girl. He slid the card he used to collect points on from the pocket of his baggy jeans and offered it to her. “Take this up the counter and get you something to snack on.”

She took it and slipped off. By this time, she knew that Hide was going to cheat. He never swiped the card before he gave it to her. How did he intend to play without points? Cheat, obviously.

Yukie stood by the food bar and watched him from afar. All she needed was the proof to call him out on. She waited for him to make a move, but he just stood there. This confused her – his actions – so she returned to his side and cleared her voice.

Hide jumped like he’d been caught. He almost had been – his drive to fit in almost won.

Passing back his card, Yukie bowed her head. “Let’s be honest with one another. You were going to cheat, weren’t you?”

Hide widened his eyes. How could she have known? He never told anyone. The only person who knew about the key was some junior high student that jumped him behind the station one afternoon.

“That red haired brat. He told you about me, didn’t he?”

Yukie nodded in agreement. “He’s … someone I used to be close to. Kind of mean, isn’t he?”

Kind of an understatement. She sighed in disappointment. “The plan was to sucker you into winning me the game console, but unlike him I chose not to take advantage of you like that.”

“You know that I have been stealing. What now? Do you plan on turning me in?”

He was surprised when she shook her head in disagreement. She really was too sweet. What could she want?

“Name your price,” Hide said with a sigh. “You want that game console right? I can get it for you; for your silence.”

Yukie shot him a glare. “I want you to stop. Whatever reason you have for doing it can’t be that important. You could get caught or worse; get your sister fired.”

He frowned – his big sister was the world to him. I knew it was a possibility, but I never thought I’d get found out. If she knew, and the junior high brat knew, then maybe he wasn’t as careful as he thought. Hide just wanted to be known for something; he wanted friends who liked him for just being himself.

Tears filled his vibrant colored eyes. Did he really just schooled by a pretty girl?

“I won’t tell if you promise to stop cheating,” Yukie continued. She waited for his reply.

Hide offered his hand. “You have a deal. I’m Hideyoshi by the way; Hide for short.”

“My name is Yukie,” she introduced with a smile.

He shook her soft hand. Heat spread across his face.

So cute.

Yukie released him and locked her arms behind her. This was pretty awkward now. She forced another smile and decided that she’d better meet up with Karma. He would probably boo her for doing the right thing, but she didn’t care. A part of her felt good for helping out Hide. The other part … well, it wanted the console.

She groaned to herself and mentioned to Hide that she needed to be on her way. Before she left, he asked if she’d like to come back and play games with him sometime. Yukie happily said yes.

Meeting up with Karma in the food court, she explained the situation; how she couldn’t take something that was stolen. She opted not to mention that she made a deal with Hide, but she assumed that maybe Karma already knew this.

He didn’t seem to care – though he did call her Little Goody Two-Shoes for not following through with the plan. Yukie glared at him and helped herself to some of his lunch.

“Guess it can’t be helped,” Karma mentioned with a sigh. “I have to deal with you being a backseat gamer until you get a handheld of your own.”

Yukie frowned. He really was pressing this issue. She decided not to comment on it though. All she wanted to know was what Karma thought about Asano. Was he in love with her? Was he pushing her to become a Virtuoso because he wanted her to stand by his side?

She really wanted to understand. Then again, she really didn’t. How was Karma supposed to know? He and Asano weren’t even friends. And though Karma was very observant, she questioned his sincerity. She had a decision to make now; the lesser of two evils.

“Regarding our conversation last night,” Yukie mentioned out of the blue. She took a deep breath. “I … want to know your honest opinion about Asano, but not until I ask. Give me some time to figure it out.”

Karma agreed with a nod. “Suit yourself. But you may not like it.”

She said nothing out loud. At least I know it will come from the heart.

If only she knew that at this time, someone who knew her – someone who knew Karma – saw her. This same someone took a picture of them together, then left before either of them noticed.

What a can of worms this would open up.  

#karma akabane #assassination classroom #oc #romance #anime #manga

[curupiracue]

Planning (or attempts to)

“Dammit Novalue, we wasted too much time! Were i-?!” I suddenly interrupt myself when a certain bitch enters my field of vision, walking out of an alley. She notices me too, stops, sits down and all but flat-out tells me to go to the Mental World.

Novalue notices it too, and looks at me, silently asking what we should do.

“She probably knows the situation better. So if she isn’t pursuing the serial killer, that means there is not much I can do…” My tone of voice rapidly changes to something enthusiastic “Now! The question is, should we take this chance to shoot her in the head, or just shoot her in the head?”

“I’m not participating if you decide to fight her, unless it’s on the off-chance you’re about to get yourself killed.”

“Muri! How the hell would that happen? I’m as invincible as a diamond in a cutting contest, and she is no hammer! Nyahahah!”

‘This time, Novalue sighs.

“Well? Shall we go?”

“Mm. Yes, let’s.”

(Entering the nowhere of importance. Wait patiently, if you will?)

The moment we get there, Wims (tries) to joyfully greet us.

“Why, hel-”

“HOW IN THE SEVEN HELLS DID YOU MANAGE TO LET HIM ESCAPE!?!”

“...Well, so much for the passive-aggressive beginning.” She replies dryly, without any of the previous fake merriness

“Ooh~? I have no problems with that. I’m friends with passive-aggressiveness, differently from you and catching criminals~” Hahah! Now that caused some umbrage, I can see it in her expression~

“Well… Sorry if I can’t catch a coward that runs away. Maybe if I had your help… oh, but you couldn’t be bothered.”

“Oh? You’d need me? Heheheh, no, that’s not a surprise, see, I’m actually just shocked because you’re willing to admit this in all your arrogance.”

“Not necessarily in combat. I could have gathered as much info as I wanted about his powers and his schedule, if only you had told me about the circumstance. But you’re too petty for that, aren’t you Nim? Would rather let people potentially die, I guess.”

“Well, YEAH! I couldn’t care less about that. You on the other hand, seems to be enjoying playing little goody two shoes without actually being one. Or trying to be one. That’s as miserable as a fish out of water… on a volcano.”

“Oh, I’m not good by any stretch. I just meant to say that anyone with a shred of morality is more moral than you, you hyper-sociopath. Remind me to beat you to a pulp one of these days, yeah?”

“Huhh?! One of these days? Why not right now? The serial killer isn’t coming back, so you’re not risking anything other than learning the fact that you cannot possibly hope to beat me.”

“Last time says otherwise.”

“Last time you had an advantage, bitch.”

“Hohoh! Then I guess it’s about time I prove I don’t need one.”

She started walking in my direction, and I did the same.

“Wouldn’t write a thesis about that. Speaking of writing, considering you’ll be left mentally crippled for life, I wonder who is going to write the article about your demi-WAAHH?!?”

“Hu-Uwoooh?!”

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

To say that I didn’t see this coming would be equal to lying, but it escalated a little bit too fast. Thankfully, I had time to set up two unreal areas while they were distracted. The moment they gave their first steps, their legs entered unreality, and without support, so did the rest of the body.

Pop.

Ttuumm.

“Guh!”

“Ugh.”

And then I popped the unreal areas back into existence, making both Nim and Wims fell on the ground.

“That’s enough, you two.”

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

...Well, that caught me by surprise. Novalue’s the type of underdog that wins by being surprisingly powerful when and where you least expect it.

Unreality… His primary construction. The power to make it so that anything within a certain area ceases to affect the other world. Well. It’s annoyingly more complex than that. But who in their right would be describing that as their leg suddenly disappear and they fall nowhere? I mean… sure, the construction can’t actually hurt anything, since whatever is in unreality is still connected to the part that is still real, but like… explaining crap like this, it’s like we’re on a book or something!

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected in all different senses)

“Yes you are.”

(The prism spins, and senseless light is reflected with a different sense)

“(very) exasperated sigh) Nim, you’re being an idiot because you refuse to cooperate with her even though the situation calls for it. Wims, you’re being an idiot because you refuse to acknowledge the circumstance. What Nim wants to do would be hardly detrimental. Don’t say that he didn’t even ask either: it’s obvious you would have killed the murderer behind our backs if he did. Hell, you attacked them even when we were obviously planning something. I’m honestly sick and tired of having to watch you two degenerate into fighting like two brats every time we speak.”

“Ugh… I suppose I deserved that.”

“Tsk. Fair enough. But, Novalue, you’re wrong on one account: I didn’t attack him while knowing of your plan: I was just warned of something interesting and after sensing that man’s power, I guessed the rest.”

“You were warned through the crow… Then, did you receive information such as the killer’s face and overall appearan-”

“Of course not, dumbass. That crow… probably died...”

Oh.

Well, at least Nim’s being sensitive about it.

Wims seemed to have a rare moment of sentimentality. But her stoic nature and the ease to manipulate our Mental World’s avatars made it hard for me to see it.

“Yes, quite… So I’m in quite the sore mood now. That bastard killed Jesus… this can’t be allowed.” She clenched her fist with anger and looked at us.

“So. Here’s the reason I called you here, to the Mental World...” She put her hand on her head and pulled photos out of it, right before tossing them to us.

In those photos, were…

A knife.

A man shrouded in fog.

And an arm holding a knife, attempting to stab her.

“There are...”

“...Not reminiscence photos.”

“Huh?”

“Ugh, for fuck’s sake Novalue, you’re useless. ...They don’t have that feeling of power. These are probably… ordinary images, manifestations of her memory. They look like those photos cuz’ it was probably easier to re-use the frame.”

“Precisely. Well, normally, since these are just memories created and stored naturally without use of a construction, there would be inaccuracies… But since I am flawless, so are these.”

Nim took a good look at the photo he was holding.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Huh, what~?”

Ugh… What a pest. Well, anyway...

She couldn’t hear the word of Jesus, but still managed to come up with something of her own… So she is muslim?

...No, that joke was awful. Nim would complain about imprecisions too.

“Anyway! Ms. Fourt-”

“Oh, please dispense with the formalities~”

“...Alright bitch, tell us what you know.”

(Time passes...)

“In addition to that...”

“You’re going to say that he detected us, aren’t you? ‘Cause I already kn-”

“Stop being such a glory hound. That said… yes. You were far away, but he managed to detect you, that or he made a random turn for no reason, which is doubtful. Given his overall inexperience, I think it’s safe to say that’s another construction of his, rather than being good at Sensing.”

“So… Summing it up, there are four of them. Two primary, and two secondary, judging from their power. The primary ones are an utility construction that is presumably not combat applicable and that can be used to erase memories, and a combat construction that summons a shadowed arm. The secondary constructions are also combat constructions, most likely, though that doesn’t matter. One of them hides his presence, and the other can be used as a scout. But we don’t know what exactly it does. It might detect other minds, or it might warn him of danger, or it might allow him to see things that are far away… Well, out of these, the last one makes more sense for a combat construction. But now that I think about it, it could be a primary utility construction. Kind of a newbie’s move, but he IS inexperienced...”

“I doubt that arm would have so much power if he had divided his attention between 3 primary constructions… And we also don’t know much about that memory wiping one… though, I doubt we’ll need to worry with that.”

“Hmmm… naruhodo. Thanks for summing it up, Novalue. I think I got the general idea of his powers. On video game terms, he'd be a "Glass Canon" of sorts. He possesses devastating ranged attacks, that, while restricted and held back by a few weaknesses, are still tricky to avoid, his fog shit to cover his location and GPS to guarantee that we can't do the same. But when it comes to direct combat, his hand ability ends up lacking in proper versatility and defense capability, and he doesn't really have any good defensive or movement options. His Erasure power is pretty good, and works at melee, but it takes way to long and is too weak to make a difference. Not to mention, trying to touch someone with his kit doesn't really bode well.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“(sigh...) You’re two useless idiots. Specially you, Wims.”

“What was that?!”

“I mean, Novalue has an excuse since he flat out wouldn’t be able to do this… but you came face-to-face with the killer and couldn’t be bothered? Guess you wanted to just end this quickly, but gathering info is your job… Are you that bad at it?”

“Why you…!”

“You know… When I was a kid, I wanted to be a babysister, but I can now see that this was a horrible mistake… Nim. What are you talking about? Don’t tell me that you managed to get a copy of his construction?”

“Ugh. He sure did. And by pure luck, by the looks of it.”

“Aww, did you view a little film of my pathetic life because you were feeling even more pathetic after losing to me? Better to win with luck than lose whe-”

“...No need to read your memories. You put a trap in someone, didn’t you? You were probably developing it as a minor construction, or maybe not even that, just a magic trick, every since you heard about about the memory erasures. A trap that made it so that, if someone with it got their memories erased, you would get a copy of whatever erased it.”

“Wow, you figured it out! Elaborate huuuh~? But you didn’t even need that! He was close to you. So you have just wanked it out of him, or read his memories concerning it. Even with the fog, you could probably overpower him with your superior stren-”

“Nim, shut the fuck up.”

“Hmmph. Prickly after losing your crow, I see. ...Well… let’s just present it:”

Suddenly, Nim summoned a shadowy figure.

“It’s just a being made of information. No way could I have gotten away with making a copy of the real thing. In essence, after the killer touches you, he can install this on your mind. Then after 4 hours of preparation and another 4 of waiting, it attacks. If it gets you, BOOM! Heart attack. Then it rummages through your memories, deleting them and only stopping whenever it finds someone. If it does, it will go to that person’s mind and delete the information about the original person as well as putting them into a “trance” for a while, during which they will ignore signs of the erased person’s existence. Quite the nice work, I must say~ ...I mean, I could do better, but still.”

“Huh. Sounds like it won’t present a problem to us after all. Incidentally, shouldn’t we make sure he can’t quit town?”

“...I already did that. The crows are keeping a close watch at the exits. For now, nobody left. I feel like he’s aware that it would be a bad idea… Well, at the very least, he knows what my crows can do, since he did me the FUCKING FAVOR of killing one of them...”

“Well, if you’re that pissed, how’s about we do something about it?”

“Agreed. Though now more than ever I DON’T wanna’ cooperate with you Nim, it was part of the plan from the get go.”

“Speaking of plans… Exactly how can I trust you not to backstab me?”

“Oh, you can’t~”

“...I’ll put you on a damn leash if I have to…”

“Ugh. Fine, you have my word… You’re an idealistic shit, Nim.”

“Why, thank you. Go live in a barrel with a staff, some rags and a loaf of bread. And remind me if I’m in front of the sun, bitch.”

“...Now that this is out of the way...” I butted in.

“Shall we start our plans?”

#stories #Mywhatamentalworld

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader- “The Black Plague”

The Joker’s unexpected death left you behind with a young daughter to raise and unbearable pain. Things have never been easy but now that he’s gone you miss him so badly it hurts. And you have a lifetime to endure without The King of Gotham.

“What…took you…so long? I almost died waiting…literally…” J takes deep breaths, trying to focus on you. He’s lying in a pool of blood, still holding the cell to his chest.

You rush by his side and kneel, so shocked you can’t make a sound. You lift his head in your lap, wiping a few red drops splattered on his pale cheeks.

“Those bastards…got me…” he manages to point towards the two dead bodies a few feet away in the underground parking. “But I got… them too,” The Joker pants, making an effort to continue. “I’m glad…you answered…the phone…” and he groans in pain; it’s so hard for him to speak at this point. “If…if there’s something…you wanna tell me…you should hurry…” he faintly smiles and your mind is completely blank. You finally start bawling, reality suddenly hitting with its cruel outcome.

“I love you,” J hears and it seems so far away.

“I…I know that…What else?” He starts coughing, almost choking in his own blood.

“What am I supposed to tell Emma, hm?” you bring your face close to his, so desperate and hopeless you can’t stop shaking.

“Tell her…that…” and The Joker really strains to finish but can’t. “Tell… … …her…” His eyelids slowly close, the world fading away.

“J…? J…?” you gently caress his hand even if it’s too late: you know he’s gone. “What am I supposed to tell Emma?… What am I supposed to tell her?…”

*************

As soon as you step out of the elevator into the penthouse, your three years old daughter runs towards you, excited:

“Mommy!” and she hugs your legs, giggling. “Whe’s daddy?” Emma glances behind you, pouting. You don’t even pick her up, not realizing that’s what she wants. Frost gave you his jacket to cover your clothes soaked with blood.

“Up, mommy, up!” she pulls on your jeans, whimpering when you ignore her and walk away.

“Whe’s daddy?” your child insists, hoping he will be the one to play with her.

“Daddy will never come home again,” you turn towards her for a few moments, feeling the unbearable pain crushing your heart.

“Com’ere, kid,” Frost sighs, lifting the little girl in his arms, her pigtails flying in the air.“You want chocolate cake?” he asks, distracting Emma and she nods a yes, forgetting she was about to whine.

“Cake?” the squeaky tone excitedly inquires.

“Yes, kiddo, your favorite.”

“Yaaayy!!!” she bounces in his strong hold, happy to get a sweet treat. You barely drag your feet to the nearest bathroom downstairs, locking the door and start to undress, your body convulsing under the pressure building up inside.

Jonny is very quick to hurry out of the penthouse so the child won’t have to hear the screams that will soon echo in the stillness.

**************

“Wanna see daddy?”

“U-hum,” Emma impatiently reaches her hands for you and she gets picked up right away.

The silver casket is opened and she peeks at her dead father.

“Daddy?” she leans over and strokes his forehead, not understanding why he’s not moving. “Daddy, wake up,” and his daughter kisses his cheeks, snickering; she thinks The Joker is pretending and will tickle her for sure in just a few seconds.

“Daddy can’t wake up, sweetie,” you bite on your lower lip as hard as you can to stop the tears.

“Why?” she sulks, rubbing her blue eyes, then pets his hair, sensing something is not quite right but she’s too young to comprehend the awfulness of what is happening.

“He has to go far away and we won’t see him after today, ok?” you try to explain in the best way possible, your voice breaking towards the end of the sentence.

“Nooo,” she whimpers, clinging at your black dress.

You sniffle and Emma kisses his temple, upset.

“Daddy’s cold.”

You lift your shoulders up, incapable of mustering a reply. She puckers her lips and blows warm air on his neck a few times, then the little girl smiles once more, waiting for him to say something.

“Daaaddy…wake up…” she gets disappointed again since J is not reacting. The kid taps his hand, not giving up. “Daddy…daddy…”

Your daughter notices you’re crying and she frowns, wincing when you squeeze her in your embrace.

“I want my daaaaddy,” Emma places her arms around your neck, her mother’s behavior making her uneasy yet you can’t control the raging emotions anymore.

“Your dad is gone,” you whisper in her ear, sobbing. “It’s only us the girls now.”

***************

“Is this seat taken?” someone wants to know while you are immersed in your book, waiting for the meeting to begin.

“Yes!” you almost shout since you always want to be alone and not socialize with the others.

“Perfect!” the person grumbles and takes a seat by you, disregarding the answer.

“Do you mind?!” you get pissed, slamming the pages shut.

“No, I don’t mind,” the arrogance takes over.

You want to tell the man to fuck off or something but as your eyes meet his, that can’t be done: it’s The Joker. You kind of had a one night stand, then another one, then another one, then a few more, then…nothing in the last two weeks.

“I can seat wherever I want, Y/N, I don’t need permission.”

Avoiding confrontation with J is tough, almost impossible. He pretends to brush an imaginary crumb off his green suit, resting his fingers on the top of the cane matching his outfit.

“You’re all dolled up; going on a date or something?” The King of Gotham teases because he loves to annoy you: he calls it “his hobby”.

“In the matter of fact I am after this boring crap,” and it’s actually the truth.

“Pretty popular, huh?” he grins, chuckling.

“Yeap, always,” the sassiness bothers him and J growls.

“In your dreams, Y/N, you’re not that special,” the malicious smirk on his face irritates you.

“Well then, thank God you don’t have to go on a date with me.”

“Indeed,” he snarls, crossing his legs. ”You get on my nerves; I couldn’t stand you even if you pay me.”

“I have better things to spend my money on, Mister J. You’re just jealous.”

He glares in your direction, burning holes through you.

“Jealous?! Me?! I bet the guy’s a loser anyway,” he starts laughing and you don’t find it amusing. If you continue the conversation he won’t shut up so you swallow your pride and let him have the last word.

** “Is this seat taken?” you hear his voice and panic.

“Yes!!” you look up to see him as he’s positioning himself right by you.

“Excellent. So the guy’s not here yet?” The Joker pries in your personal life, wanting to hear the scoop.

“No, not yet, so I would appreciate if you would just leave. Are you following me around?!” you bluntly demand to know.

“Ha! That’s a good one, Y/N. Like I don’t have better things to do with my precious time. I actually have a date too, not that I need to inform you. I am being a gentleman here because I saw you all alone at the table and I thought you should know: your date is not coming.”

“Wha…? How do you know he’s not coming?” you suspiciously squint your eyes.

“I told him not to show up or I’m gonna kill him. It worked, didn’t even fight it. Told you you’re not that special,” J winks, satisfied with his victory. He gets up and steps away, leaving you behind dumbfounded.

You try to call your guy and after a couple of rings, the message makes you cringe: “This number is no longer is service.”

Are you kidding me?!  you angrily yell at your cell, concluding things will not happen so you abandon your table on the terrace, making your way out of the restaurant when you see him: J with a woman, getting reading to have dinner.

You stomp towards them, antagonized.

“Is this seat taken?” you touch one of the two extra chairs, yanking it away.

“Yes,” the woman stares you down, confused. “We are expecting company.”

“Cool !” and you drop on it, nonchalantly grabbing an extra menu and reading through it.

J ignores you, continuing to gaze at his.

“Who is this, Mister J?” she frets, appalled somebody has the audacity to interrupt them.

“The Black Plague,” he snarls, sucking on his silver teeth, calm and composed. His favorite nickname for you.

“Can you tell her to leave, please?”

“It’s a free country. If you want her to leave, tell her yourself.”

The woman is very confused and you interrupt:

“So what are we having?”

“Lamb,” The Joker shortly responds, closing his menu.

“I’ll have the same,” you decide. “What do you want?” you address the woman and she is lost. “Mister J, what’s going on? I thought we’re on a date.”

“We are.”

“It’s very awkward,” she complains.

“I love awkward,” you serenely smile, apparently without a care in the universe.

“I don’t!” the woman snaps and J retaliates:

“If you don’t like it, disappear!”

Her mouth opens and before she protests, you enunciate with an indifferent tone:

“I’m pregnant.”

“Why?” he debates on the question, skeptical.

“Why what?” you continue, scratching your arm.

“Why are you telling me? You need a father for your kid?”

“Nope, I thought you would want to know,” and the woman feels out of place since her presence is totally disregarded by both parties. “You want a paternity test?”

“Naahh, I will spare you the embarrassment of everyone finding out I’m not the dad.” “More like you want to spare yourself the embarrassment of finding out you are the dad after creating such a fuss over it,” your confident comeback makes the woman abandon her seat and The Joker doesn’t acknowledge the move.

“This is ridiculous! We are on a date! I can’t…”

“Then get lost!” he rolls his eyes. “Or stay! Your choice, allright?!”

**************

“Daaaadyyyyy,” you hear Emma’s mouse voice and open your eyes, still tired as hell. You fell asleep inside the walk-in closet again: it’s been your refuge and sanctuary lately, the only space that keeps the demons at bay. Surrounded by his clothes and everything he left behind, you don’t come out of the sacred hideout for hours.

“Daadddyyyy,” your daughter little feet run up and down the stairs: she’s searching for her father again. The poor child believes J is playing hide-and-seek with her, that’s why he’s not around. Sometimes you join the quest, finding your troubled mind actually hoping he would just show up out of nowhere and brag about how amazingly diligent he is since his girls couldn’t find him. An idiot’s hope, fueled by your daughter’s innocence and you own sorrow…

“Y/N,” Frost knocks at the door, “I brought food, come and eat.”

You lick your dry lips, remembering you didn’t even drink water today.

“I’m not hungry,” you yawn, adjusting your body on the air mattress and turning on the laptop.

“You have to eat; Emma’s hungry, come on,” he insists and you obey, not in the mood for anything.

You roll off your current bed, cracking your stiff bones as you stretch. Somehow it’s even hard to breathe. After a couple of minutes you are finally out of the closet and find your daughter at the table in the kitchen, already munching on some mashed potatoes. You really don’t know what you would do without Jonny; he takes care of her and everything else since you are incapable of being a full time mother or tend to any business.

“Mommy, look,” she proudly shows you her plate, excited to see you for the day.

You kiss her forehead and sadly smile, not touching your food.

“Eat mommy,” Emma tries to feed you. “This is f’om meeee,” she drags the word and you are familiar with the game so you accept the tiny spoon. More mashed potatoes come your way. “And this is f’om daaadddyyy,” you daughter giggles and you can’t even chew. But you pull yourself together as she goes on: “This is f’om meeeee… …This is f’om daaaddddyyy.”

You forcefully eat and can’t stop the tears anymore when the inevitable question arises:

“Whe’s daddy, hm?” and she looks around, probably wanting to feed him also.

“Daddy’s not here,” and you abruptly get up and run away, bumping into Frost that is coming over with more food.

“Hey, Y/N, did you eat already?!”

You don’t reply and go back to your oasis, crying so hard you can’t focus as you go through the laptop, looking at pictures and videos, precious memories that summarize your only hope for some kind of closure. You accidentally click on “Accounts”, then want to back out when a subfolder gets your attention: “For The Black Plague.”

What is this? you wipe your eyes, not having a clue about what it would be: you rarely go into “Accounts” on your laptop because J had all the links on his and kept track of the money more than you did.

You double click on it and it opens up a video icon, dated 6 months ago.

How intriguing.

Click again and…

“So only watch this if I’m dead, OK?” The Joker’s face popping up on the screen makes you gasp. “Are you still watching?… Well, I guess I’m dead then. First thing first: don’t cry. Your eyes get so puffy you look like a blow-up fish! Very unattractive! It’s 2 in the morning, I am in my boxers and after you totally ignored my request for sex, I guess I’m bored enough to make this stupid video. What is that?!” he turns around and you can see yourself in the background, sleeping, completely out of it. “Is that snoring? Huffing? Puffing? The Queen of Gotham, making all those sounds! Geez, woman,” and J faces the camera again, tucking his messy green hair behind the ears.

“Anyway, in case you were wondering, yes, I hate you. I hate so much that I had a kid with you,” his husky voice announces. “I guess that says it all. E-hem,” J fake coughs and you are mesmerized, can’t even breathe. “Hey, Princess!” he yells, “I’m horny, wake up!” Some mumbling about being tired is heard, you don’t recall anything. “For the record, this is a direct threat to my health,” his blue eyes stare at the camera. “ I have to be able to walk tomorrow so I must insist. Hey, Princess!” he yells louder. “I’m horny, come on, wake up!”

A faint answer, can’t even understand what you said.

“Wow, that tired, hm? Don’t care. I’m gonna get laid no matter what,” and that cocky grin gets you out of trance for a second. “It’s a miracle we got a kid out of this relationship. Before I go, here’s the deal: since I obviously died first, I’ll wait for you. Don’t take too long: try not to live until you’re a hundred or something, you are aware I get easily bored. Then after you come, we’ll wait together for the kiddo, ok?”

Then he stops, thinking about what just came out of his mouth.

“Oh my God, see what being horny and ignored makes me do ?! I talk about a bunch of stupid stuff; it’s all your fault !!!” he scrunches up his face, squirming in the recliner. Then it seems J is having an interior struggle about his final words. “Are you gonna make me say it?” and you involuntarily clench to your shirt. “Fine, I’ll say it again: I hate you. You know what that translates into? Do you?… It translates into I don’t like you. What?! Were you expecting I love you? Pfft, in your dreams, woman, get over yourself; you’re not that special,” The Joker hisses. “I might delete this since it’s complete garbage. I’ll decide after you take care of my needs.”

And his finger goes over the camera, the video coming to a halt.

You are so overwhelmed your body is petrified, looking around the closet and expecting for something to happen. But nothing happens, so you sigh, replaying the video over and over again until you fall back to sleep.

*****************

Emma crawls by J, sucking on her binky, trying to climb up his foot.

“You’re pretty helpless, aren’t you?” he scoffs, watching her retry and dropping back on her little butt numerous times until crying starts.

“For heaven’s sake, why can’t you just do it?” and he helps her up, firmly pressing the 6 months old against his leg. She clutches to his pants and starts smiling so widely that the pacifier falls out of her mouth.

“What, you’re happy now?” and that almost toothless, sweet smile makes him groan.“You’re not a cute baby, you know that?”

“Stop saying that to our daughter, she is cute!” you get mad since you heard him.

“You’d think she would be better looking kid: I’m handsome and the mom is not that hideous,” The Joker blares out a bunch of obnoxious unfunded opinions.  

You snatch her from him, frowning.

“Let’s go, sweetie. Daddy’s just a bitter, cranky man!” “Watch it, Y/N!” he shouts after you as you leave the premises and after a while a door gets slammed, then the elevator descending makes him aware you left.

Great, he gazes at the ceiling, already knowing where you’re headed.

He didn’t contact you in a week, you didn’t bother either. Just stayed at your apartment like you usually do when things go sour. And they go sour very often.

It’s the middle of the night and you go check on Emma when you realize the nightlight in her room is on. You quietly approach and peep inside from behind the wall: J is there, holding the little one in his arms.

“You are cute,” he kisses her forehead. “I just don’t like you too much.”

You decide to make your presence known.

“What are you doing here? You came to see your ugly baby?”

The Joker growls, full of spite.

“Why didn’t you bring her over?! It’s been a week!”

You lift your shoulders up, grouchy and resentful.

“Why bother? You’ll be mean to her and she doesn’t deserve it.”

“Shut up and stop aggravating me! You’re coming back to the penthouse first thing in the morning.”

“No!”

But fighting him is pointless.

“You can’t keep a father from his child; it’s illegal!” J throws that in your face and it sounds so silly you chuckle.

***************

“Da’yy,” Emma babbles and J drops the cellphone in his lap.

“Did she just…did she just say daddy?!” he inquires and you snort.

“I think so,” and you watch the one year old hesitantly stepping towards a fascinated Joker.

“Can you say it again?” he lifts her in his arms, probably expecting a full conversation. He’s that type of person.

But Emma just baby talks, preoccupied with his crazy colored hair.

****************

“Daaadyy, Daaaddyyyy, Daaaddddyy, la, laaa, la, Dadddyyyyy, la, la,laaaa,” the two year old keeps on singing, walking her Doll on her father’s knees.

He’s getting a headache: she’s been singing that for the past 15 minutes, completely insensitive to her parent’s pain.

“Pumpkin, are you going to stop soon?!”

The singing gets louder and you have to underline:

”Aren’t you excited you have your own song? I don’t!”

“Ughhh, lucky me,” The Joker grumbles but caresses her tiny head.

***************

“Mom, mom, wake up, you’re talking in your sleep again.”

First thing you see upon awakening is Emma, sitting on the bed and holding your hand. She is 35 now, almost the same age you were when you lost J.

You got so sick in the last month. You had walking pneumonia and didn’t even know until you fainted in the living room. Added to your heart disease and other complications, your health doesn’t seem to improve, only worsen day by day. Your daughter refuses to leave your side, even if you tell her you’re fine.

“I dreamed about your father again,” you confess. “Dreams about a long time ago, when you were a baby…”

She softly laughs, kissing your hand.

“Did you dream about when we used to look for him all over the place?”

“How do you know?” you smile, sliding up your pillows.

“You keep on repeating his name, mom,” Emma helps you up as you kind of struggle to keep your balance.

“Let’s look for him again, we didn’t do it in so long!” you suddenly have an outburst of energy.

“Really?” she holds your waist as you walk outside your bedroom.

“Humor an old woman, would you?” you beg, playing the weakling mother.

“Fine,” your daughter agrees. “Let’s search for him. Daadddddd!!!!” she raises her voice and you follow.

“Jaaaaayyyyyyy!!!!!!” and you search the penthouse in every room, even the closets.

“He’s nowhere to be found…again…” you get sad and Emma feels guilty.

“Mom, come on, don’t get upset.”

“Why can’t we ever find him?…” and your teary eyes make hers the same. “I don’t feel too good, kiddo, help me back downstairs.”

“Did you take your meds, mom? You must have high blood pressure again.”

“Stupid pills !! My heart disease it’s from a broken heart, can’t fix that,” you repeat to the young woman like you always do when she asks about the meds.

Emma places you back to bed, tucking you in.

“I’ll bring some water for your tablets. You have to take your antibiotics too. Did you eat anything today?”

“Of course!” you lie, dizzy and drained.

“I don’t believe you. I’ll warm up some food and I’ll be back shortly, ok?”

“Stubborn like your dad,” you playfully slap her thigh.

“Stubborn like both, from what I’ve heard,” she points out the truth, exiting the room.

You want to reach for the remote so you can turn on the TV, but the sudden, sharp ache in your heart knocks you out of breath. You try to call Emma’s name but the sounds freeze on your lips. The piercing pain claws at your chest and your vision gets cloudier. The second wave of throbbing ache calms your labored breathing and as you close your eyes forever, you hear his voice so clearly:

“Finally, Princess, what took you so long ?!”

Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

#the joker x reader #the joker jared leto #the joker fanfiction #the joker #the joker imagine #jared leto #jared leto x reader #the suicide squad #the suicide squad imagine #the suicide squad fanfiction #mister j #mistah j #mr.j #puddin #dc #dc comics

[takemedancingmaine]

Honest

@deathbylowden you didn’t ask me specifically, but I really hope you enjoy this!

Listen – Honest by Drake Bell

This is unusual for you. You’re not the type of person to play ‘hard to get.’ You’re a firm believer in the idea that if you like someone you shouldn’t waste that time by playing a foolish game. Yet here you are, turning Jack Lowden down.

It’s not that you would ever, in a million years, want to turn him down. He’s got something about him, something inexplicable, that draws you in. Or maybe it’s not just one thing but a bit of everything, his humour, his eyes that reach your soul, his charm. This is only your first encounter, but you know him thanks to his face being all over the place, interviews in magazines on the newsstands.

So what the hell are you doing playing hard to get? You’re arguing with yourself. On the one hand, you really do think he’s genuine. On the other, you can’t help but think he must have girls fawning all over him and you cannot imagine just being one in a dumb crowd. That voice inside you is terrified of just being another in a long line. That voice wins out.

“Can I take you out for dinner one you get off work,” he smiles, dimples flashing. He’s leaning against the side of your desk with his arms folded over his chest.

You work as an intern for his public relations director. You’d only just started a few weeks ago, and knew he was one of the clients you’d be working with—which was perhaps why you’d taken such close notice of his previous interviews—but being in his presence was different than you’d expected. He was intimidating, for sure, but he didn’t ooze arrogance, which was a comfort.

When he’d been introduced to you, just a half-hour before, he gave you a smile that made your heart feel like it was tied to a thousand balloons, ready to float away. He’d gone into his meeting then, and on his way out he’d stopped at your desk to chat—or simply to ask you out. He cut right to the point, he did.

“I can’t,” you avoid his gaze and look toward the computer screen to the spreadsheet you’re editing. “I’ve got a class early tomorrow morning,” you shrug.

“A class?” He asks a little confused.

“I’m only here in the afternoons on Wednesday’s,” you nod. “I’m a masters student at King’s. I have class on Wednesday morning.”

Jack drops himself into the chair on the opposite side of your desk and leans forward. His elbows on his knees and one of his hands running over his beard. “What d’you study?”

“Photojournalism,” you answer, your eyes shifting from the screen to his face and back again. You note his confusion and continue before he can say anything else.

“It’s odd, that I’d be working here. I know,” you tell him. “It’s great money though, and I do get to work with photographers on a regular basis, gain some experience that way,” you glance to him again. Keeping your eyes on him this time, forcing yourself to look into his blue eyes that haunt your dreams. “Besides, I studied media relations in uni, so this would’ve been quite the proper fit if I hadn’t changed my studies.”

“What d’you want to do?” He asks, placing his elbows on your desk and resting his chin in his hand.

You know what he’s asking, but you tease him anyway.

“I want to finish my work and go home for the night, so if you could just see your way out of my office, that’d be wonderful.”

Jack’s not at all deterred, a smirk falling onto his pink lips. “I meant career-wise. What would you like to do in photojournalism?”

“I want to get into the humanitarian line of work,” you shrug. “Just take photos and spread the word for causes and the like that deserve it.”

“That’s really cool,” he says sincerely, his right hand running across his ginger beard. “How much d’you have left?”

“Three semesters,” you make an effort to look back toward your computer. Your brain is starting to get foggy. You can faintly smell his cologne and his eyes are making you weak, your mind slowing every second he’s still here.

“So I’ll see you around here quite a bit then?” his hopeful tone makes you bite your lip.

“Yes,” you nod. “So one passed up dinner invitation will not be the end of you.”

“It could be,” he keeps on. “I can feel myself getting fainter as the seconds pass,” he pretends to slink back into his seat and closes his eyes. You narrow your eyes at him and end up giggling when he opens one eye to peak at your reaction to his antics.

“That’s cold,” he shakes his head and stands, offering his hand to you. “I’ll see you,” he says when you grab his hand and shake. “Soon,” he adds and with that, he leaves your office with only a single glance over his shoulder to you.

The second time you see Jack in person he’s actually waiting outside your office when you arrive. He’s sitting on the floor, legs crossed, with his phone in his hand distractedly.

“How long have you just been sat there?” You ask, pulling your keys from your pocket.

In the week since you’d last seen him your done nothing but think about him. It was both a blessing and a curse, the incessant thoughts of the blonde haired blue eyed boy.

You’d been assigned to a bit of his media coverage analysis, working to get him noticed by all the right people in the industries he thrived in. Naturally, this meant looking through his work catalog and categorizing things, looking for bookings to try and get him into, watching media coverage of him, etc. Jack was literally on your mind non-stop at work. And at home or in class? He was always there in the back of your mind.

You didn’t have to let him know that. You didn’t have to stroke his ego.

When he looks up at you now you fight hard to look indifferent, when even just the weight of his gaze makes you weak.

“I had a meeting this morning, and I know you don’t come in until later on Wednesdays, so…” he trails off as you unlock your door and step inside. As you slip off your jacket you hear him shuffling as he stands up and follows you into the small space.

“How long ago was the meeting?” You ask, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Two hours,” he mumbles and shrugs his shoulders. “Felt like longer though because I knew I’d be seeing you. Time just lagged when I needed it to fly.”

His smirk is slowly starting to appear, just a shadow gracing his face at the moment, as you turn your computer on and pull out a form you’d left to fill out when you rushed out of the office yesterday.

“Not accustomed to waiting for what you want?” You ask.

“Not when I’d already been waiting an inexplicably long week to see you again and was so close to where I knew you’d be,” the smirk deepens in his features as he sinks into the chair across the desk from you that he’d occupied last week.

You roll your eyes and feel the butterflies in your stomach. Ignore them. It’ll be fine. They’ll pass. Great. Now you’re talking to yourself.

“I know better than to ask you to dinner again and have my ego bruised when you say no,” he says now as you actually try to concentrate on the form in front of you in hopes of distracting yourself from him.

“So you’re here to tell me you’ve given up?” You briefly shoot him a puzzled look.

“I’m here to tell you I’m going to order some takeaway for lunch and then eat it right here at this very desk. And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll order enough for you to share,” he leans back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other and looking at you, waiting for you to challenge him.

You don’t though. You just ignore him and continue to work on the form as Jack takes out his phone, typing, and scrolling intently.

Twenty minutes later, of him just sitting in relative silence as you work, he springs up from the chair suddenly.

You jump back at his sudden movement. “Shit,” you breathe.

“Food’s here,” he smiles. “I’ll be right back, love.” You watch him get up and dart out of your office toward the elevators.

You can’t help but notice that your heartbeat hasn’t slowed down even while he’s gone. He’s having an effect on you.

“How’d you know I like Thai?” You ask as he steps back into your office a few minutes later with the bag of food in hand, a smile on his face.

“I asked Jennifer,” he shrugs and starts taking cartons out of the bag and sorting them out on the desk between the two of you.

“You talked to my boss about the food I like?” You asked.

“I was here for two hours,” he says easily, pulling out chopsticks for himself. “Plus,” he pauses and hands you the other pair of chopsticks, “I wanted to impress you that’d I’d done some research. Your favorite food from your favorite shop.”

“Color me impressed,” you admit as you start to dig in on the carton of Pad Thai he’d gotten for you.

“Perhaps now you’ll grant me a proper date with you?” He asks.

“Don’t push your luck, Lowden,” your laughter fills the space around you as you shake your head and he pouts at you.

“Fancy seeing you in this particular pub on this particular night,” you hear the voice say from beside you. Your turn away from your colleague Trish, the one who’d invited you to drinks with a few other office members, and find Jack standing on your other side.

“You had something to do with his, didn’t you?” You ask, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

It’s only three days after your last encounter. But you feel the impalpable pull again just the same. As if it’s been much longer as if your body is just trying to force you to get closer to him.

He looks good. He’s in black jeans and a black shirt with a navy blazer and black motorcycle boots. His hair is all a mess and his beard is filling in nicely. You close your eyes a moment, hoping it’s much too dark in the pub for him to notice your blush.

“I may have convinced Trish to ask you to drinks tonight, yeah,” he gives you a small smile, almost nervous.

“May have?” You ask.

“Alright, I coerced her into it,” he shrugs and picks up the glass beside his hand, taking a sip. You watch the glass raise to his mouth, trying not to stare at his lips, and watch as the amber liquid moves past his lips, watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, watch the way he licks his lips when he takes the glass away from them.

“I wanted to see you,” his voice pulls your attention away from thoughts of his lips and musings about how soft they must be, “and I knew I couldn’t wait another week.”

“You’re quite keen on me, aren’t you?” You ask now. You’ve only had a few sips of your pint, so you’re not sure where the courage to ask this question comes from, but you’ve asked it. And now you’re waiting with bated breath to hear his response.

“You’ve been all I can think about properly for a week and a half now,” he smiles sheepishly, his eyes glancing down briefly before lifting back up to glance at you.

“So you’re stalking me?”

“Not quite,” he rolls his eyes playfully. “But, I have been thinking of ways to win you over.”

“You want to win me over?” You ask.

“Your beauty drew me in,” he says, his blue eyes watching your face intently. “But once we started talking that day I got to admire your quick wit. Plus, I liked the way you didn’t treat me any differently. And after this Wednesday I found even more that I like spending time with you. Truly,” he nods, affirming to himself. “Even when you were working and I was just sat there, and we were silent… it was nice. It was harmonious and not at all awkward.”

“It wasn’t awful, no,” you agree with him.

“And now all I can think about is pulling you close and kissing the hell out of your lips right here and now before spending the rest of the evening relentlessly teasing you just to see that wit you’ve got.”

You realize you’re holding your breath. “Shit,” you breathe out softly.

“I’ve got an option B though if that doesn’t win you over,” he adds.

“Oh.”

“It’s to just wait outside your office every day until you wane and give in and inevitably fall in love with me because I can see myself falling in love with you if you’ll let me,” he shrugs.

“You might scare away the other clients by always lurking around,” you joke.

“I’m willing to risk it,” he smiles.

“Or,” you bite your bottom lip for a second before continuing, “you could just kiss me and make option b a moot point.”

Jack’s blue eyes are alight, shining even in the dim lighting. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” he sets down his whiskey and steps up to you, one hand raising to cradle your face while his other arm snakes around your back, pulling you flush against him. Your cheeks are already flushed.

“Be prepared to be swept off your feet,” he whispers, his lips ghosting over yours, his nose butting gently against your own.

“Just kiss me you pain-in-the-arse,” you bring your arms around his neck and tug gently on the hair on the back of his head.

“Yes ma’am,” he then closes his eyes and kisses you. You’re unable to form any other thoughts but this one: fuckin’ keep him at all costs.

#jack lowden #jack lowden imagine #fanfic prompts #honest drake bell

[astraldragons]

Part 3: Cruel to Be Kind

Part 1  Part 2 

Warnings: Vore mention and Niles being his usual teasing self.

A rather undignified shriek escapes your lips as you crash through the underbrush, narrowly avoiding the plodding footsteps of the enormous creature chasing you. Although the monster is huge and clumsy, and not particularly fast for something its height, the sheer size difference between the two of you alone is making the creature very difficult to outrun.

Not too long ago, you had been separated from the Heroes in the confusion of an attack- because of course the stupid Emblians would stage an unfair ambush at night in the woods- and now you were very much alone with a bloodthirsty monster trying to get its grubby, meaty fingers on you. Okay, well, I lived in this world longer than expected. I was pretty sure I was gonna die within the first few days, but I made it to week two, at least… You yelp in alarm as the creature makes a klutzy attempt at snatching you up, just barely managing to jump to the side in time. As you rush from the cover of the trees into a more barren clearing, you quickly chance a glance down at the ancient artifact tightly clutched in your hand. I’ve never tried this while running before, but I don’t really have any other options here…! Adjusting the Breidablik in your hands as you continue to run for your life, you swallow anxiously. Please let this work- please summon someone who can take this thing out-! You quickly point the artifact up to face the sky, nearly tripping over a knotted vine on the ground in the process. To your immense relief, Breidablik begins to glow before quickly shooting off a ball of glorious light into the air- silver, this time. Unfortunately, you don’t have time to sit and watch the process. You continue to run, praying that your action has potentially just saved your life. If not, well… It’d be the last summon you would ever make. Also unfortunately, the monster is gaining on you. A shriek escapes your lips as it makes another wild grab at your small form, but you barely manage to dodge, eliciting a howl of frustration from the nasty creature. If this thing tries again… I don’t think I’ll be able to dodge it again. With the creature this close, it’s like running near the epicenter of an earthquake: hard as hell and extremely terrifying. It’s slowing you down, enough so that you’re now in extreme danger of being within the beast’s range. It makes another attempt to grab at you. Your pounding heart suddenly lurches to a sickening halt. No. No. NO- A hideous roar booms through the air like a thunderclap, and a small gust of wind brushes against your back, indicating that the creature had just barely missed. A sudden, massive tremor rattles the ground, finally knocking you off your feet and sending you tumbling forward. You immediately try to scramble to your feet in a panic, looking fearfully towards the monster. But it’s no longer chasing you. Instead, it rests face-down on the ground, multiple arrow shafts sticking up from its mountainous back. You give it an incredulous look, panting heavily as you try to regain your breath. As an afterthought, you scoot backwards. The thing could still be alive, for all you knew. And then a flicker of motion in the distance, beyond the creature, catches your attention. A man comes into view, carrying a bow in one hand and resting the other hand on his hip. He appears to be looking the monster over, his nose slightly wrinkled with disdain at the sight of the dead creature. You simply gape up at the giant of an archer looming in the distance. You’re completely out of breath- and somewhat unsure of how this new Hero will react to you- so you don’t immediately speak up. Instead, you decide to look him over. His tan boots are a bit pointed at the ends, and said boots appear to go up to the man’s knees before flaring out. A long cloak gently sways and swishes around his legs as he idly surveys the creature and tugs his arrows free from its back. Although it’s a bit hard to see from this angle, you can vaguely make out a scarlet sheath strapped around his waist on his back- for the arrows, you assume. Overall, his body is… rather finely muscled, you note with a trace of embarrassment. His sleeves are skintight, proudly showing off the lean musculature of his biceps and forearms. His pale blue shirt is form-fitting as well, displaying the man’s natural, graceful curves. His face is turned away from you, but you can mostly make out the man’s chiseled jaw line. His shock of white hair covers his forehead, and partially covers his eyes- well, eye. His right eye appears to be covered up with an eyepatch. In conclusion, you muse, this is a very attractive man and he certainly knows it, from the way he confidently swings his hips as he walks, the way his lips tilt up in a hint of an arrogant smirk- “Heh. Enjoying the view, short stuff?” You squeak in surprise as the man starts sauntering over towards you, the smirk on his face growing. In no time, his boots are resting on either side of you, looming far, far above like a skyscraper. His arms are casually crossed, a rather smug look on his face. You have to lean back uncomfortably to look up at him, feeling a frown tugging at your own lips. A bit arrogant, isn’t he…? “...Ah- um. Th. Thank you? For saving me?” You stammer out uncertainly. He kneels down (finally) before letting out a sultry purr. “Oh, no need to thank me.~ You're just lucky I showed up before that nasty Faceless could catch you…” And then he taps a finger to his chin. “Ah, but now you’re stuck with me… what a shame.” You take a few hesitant steps back as you peer up at his face, suddenly getting an uneasy feeling in your gut. He’s planning something, and from the look he’s giving me, I doubt it’s anything good… Before you can back away any further, however, he grins and leans forward, placing his hand behind you and blocking your path. “Going somewhere?” You hesitate, stammering in confusion and alarm. “I- Um- Yes? Yes. I need to get back to the Order of Heroes-” “Mmhmhm… Order of Heroes, huh? Must be a long walk from here, unless this ‘order’ of yours enjoys setting up camp in creepy forests.” You pause again before nodding uncertainly. “It’s… Yeah. I got lost after an ambush, and after that monster came after me. That, uh… Faceless, you called it?” The man nods, humming a bit. “Yeah, a Faceless. Those nasty things are from my world. Buuut anyways, it’s probably not a smart move to go through the forest all by your lonesome, hmm? What say I be your… escort?” Before you can respond, his hand shifts and easily scoops you up as the man gets to his feet. You suddenly find yourself to be rather disoriented, sprawled out in the palm of this stranger’s hand and looking at his face upside-down. “Sayyy, I never caught your name, now did I?” He hums, glancing around at the surrounding forest. You blink, bewildered at being so suddenly picked up and then spoken to like nothing had just happened, before grunting and shifting to sit upright. “I’m Sam. I’m, ah- Kind of the resident summoner of the Order of Heroes.” “The name’s Niles. Former outlaw, current disgrace. Pleasure to meet’cha.~” You squint a little at that. ...Was that self-deprecating humor? Before you can think about it any further, Niles lifts you up a little closer to his face, his seemingly-ever-present smirk growing a tad bigger. “So you summoned me, huh?” You blink before hesitantly nodding. “Yeah, I, uh. I'm sorry about the sudden summon. I was kind of trying to avoid that Faceless, and I was desperate, and-” He holds up his free hand to silence you before shrugging. “Nah, it’s alright. Hardly the weirdest thing I've ever dealt with.” Then he taps a finger to his chin, a coy look on his face. “Although, aren't you a bit small for a summoner? I'm going to be honest here… you seem more the right size for a little snack than anything else…~” Your heart starts hammering in your chest, and a quivering stutter escapes your lips. “U-Um. What.” “Oh, yooouuu heard me. Heh, I wonder if you even taste like a snack, too~?” You quickly shake your head, your cheeks tinting a deep shade of red. “No. No, I don't. Please don’t-” Your frantic rambling is cut off as Niles suddenly leans forward, quickly swiping his tongue up the length of your body. A flustered, extremely panicked noise escapes your lips as you cough and try to wipe the saliva off of your summoner robes, simultaneously watching Niles with a mortified look on your face. The giant archer pauses, a mischievous gleam in his eye, as he slowly licks his lips. “Mmm… not bad, not baaad! A little sweet, a little salty… hm.~ But I really can't judge based on one tiny little taste, now can I?” Oh no. Ohhhh no no no. “No-! No, don’t- EEP!” Your protests are cut off once more as the man leans forward once more, taking his sweet time in running his tongue up your body. You actually get lifted off of his palm, just a little, before he finally pulls away and lets you drop back into his hand. As he licks his lips once more, humming to himself rather provocatively, you sputter and try to clean yourself off. Your face is horribly warm- you can tell that it must be cherry-red at this point- and you try to do your best to hide it. Niles grins down at you, using the index finger of his free hand to gently poke at your side. “Awww, is someone embarrassed~?” He coos. “Sorry about that… I just can't help myself around such a tasty little thing.” An irate, flustered noise escapes your lips as you try to shove his prodding finger away. “Don't-! Don't…” You pause before stammering anxiously. “Please don't eat me, I-I… I have to… The others… I-” He blinks before chuckling amusedly. “Ohhh, don't worry, short stuff… I’m not gonna eat you, tasty as you are. You just need to lighten up a little, you fussy little thing.~” You stare at him in disbelief. “You’re… you're not?” Niles grins deviously. “Heh, nah. I’ll escort you back to your precious Order or wherever. You diiiid summon me, after all. I’m just keeping you on your toes; the world is quite a dangerous place, especially for such a teeny little thing like you.” As he begins to walk into the forest, you hesitantly sit back down, an anxious frown on your face. I can't really tell if he's on my side or not, but… at least he's not trying to eat me, I suppose… You pause before glaring at the Breidablik in your hand. Fortunately enough, you’d managed to keep a grip on it in all the chaos.

I swear, you do this on purpose.

#my writing #adventures of a tiny summoner #part 3 #g/t writing #fe g/t

[lordavanti]

Ivar The Boneless x Reader Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII

Summary: Back in England you prepare to confront your father and brother. But are you really ready to make the choice between your homeland and the man you love? Words: 3066 Notes: Violence, blood

You jumped out of the boat, right back on English soil. It was raining like hell, causing your hair to stick on you cheeks, your clothes clenshing on your body. But in that moment in didn’t matter, you were back home. Your eyes travelled across the grey sky towards the settlement. You knew that many miles further there was a kingdom … your kingdom. You were still an heir, as first born daughter in the family the kingdom was yours by right. So as long as you lived was this kind of home, not that it felt that way. Shortly after Ivar blood eagled that man Lagertha announced that they would sail back to England, traiding between the settlement here and Kattegat. It was an economy, a working establishment and it took serval journeys fort and back to keep it flowing. Björn, as ambitioned as he was wanted to travel deeper into Engeland and that was the one reason why an army set foot in England again. It was the one reason why you were here, because Ivar was to and he wanted just as much fame like usual. The Ragnarssons were reunited again on the battlefield and you tensed by the thoughts of it. This was your first official journey as a viking and you weren’t sure if you could do this. Your eyes looked down, to the bracelet that Ivar gave you. What should you say if you stood before your father, but worser … what would you say if you stood before you brother.

‘How does it feel?’ You jerked your head around to Ivar who they carried out of the boat. His dark hair was almost black now because of the rain, he blinked away the drops of rain that rolled over his eyelashed. ‘Different.’ You answered slowly while following him and his man towards the settlement where they leaved him behind for a little house. ‘You’re different now Y/n.’ He nodded, crawling in, shaking his head, causing the drops of rain flying everywhere. But you stayed in the doorway, looking outside, in the direction your fathers kingdom laid. ‘It feels like years ago since I last was here.’ It was a strange feeling, a feeling you couldn’t place, like two believes fighting against each other. You never really left your Christian god, sometimes you thought of it when you tried to sleep. But you never prayed … at least not for that god. It became easier to be viking when everyone around you was one, so you started to talk with them, believed in their gods like they were yours. ‘Are we gonna raid my fathers kingdom?’ You asked softly, turning into the little house, looking for Ivar. He sat on the bed, pulling out his wet clothes. You had forgot your own cold and set your attentions towards the fireplace. ‘No, that was the deal I maked with your father, you for peace.’ ‘It’s nothing for you to leave a place untouched.’ You thought out loud. The wood was stocked and dry so it took really fast flame. You held your hands over the fire, feeling the heat warming your body already. ‘Who says I leave it untouched?’ He asked with a slightly mysterious voice. You turned your head around and watched how he crawled towards the fire, with nothing more than just his trousers. ‘What will you do?’ Did you want to know? If he wasn’t planning on raiding the place than he had something else in mind. ‘I will make you the queen.’ He announched. You looked at him, shoked mostly while you thought of wat he just said. Queen … you … of a kingdom with Christian people? You stared back at the fire, watching the flames dance around each other. ‘How? Ivar, you should kill my father and I don’t think my brother would allow it. Besides, those are christian people, you just turned me Viking to leave me with Christian people again?’ How further that sentence came, to more high pitched your voice became. ‘I will never leave you.’ He immidiatly reacted, placing his lips just in the curve of your neck while he pulled away the clothes that covered your shoulder. ‘I don’t understand.’ You sighed, turning your head trying to look at him. But he was just a little behind you, roaming your naked shoulder with his lips. ‘Patience Y/n.’ He smiled against your shoulder. ‘Says the man who is never patience.’ You murmuled a reaction, he chuckled. He pushed you down on your back before the fire. His blue eyes were almost living with the reflexion of the red flames in it. ‘Be viking my princess.’ He whispered softly. You studied his face for a moment before you nodded slowly, willingly opening your lips when he places his on it.

You saw a blood eagle from close by, now you had to watch how they killed a horse as a present to the gods. You were familiar with sarcraficing things … or at least, some Christian stories told of that, but seeing it … in the viking way, it was something else. Everything that involved, blood and dead produced a verry eager Ivar, his eyes never leaved the horse when it died, just as he watch the blood like it was ale. It wouldn’t really surprice you if he would drink it. But the whole ritual pushed some energy through your body. Despite the fact that you were tired from the journey here, and it was dark already, this felt so … exciting. You eyes gazed over the stars, the clouds and rain fadded away earlier so it was a bright night. Somebody came around with a bundle of twigs, splaching blood over every single one of you. You blinked your eyes, feeling a drop of blood rolling down your cheek. When you looked towards Ivar he was looking back with that intense gaze that made you warm inside. ‘Tomorrow whe raid north.’ Björn pointed and everybody followed his finger. You knew what laid north, your fathers kingdom. It felt as a pressure, knowing that tomorrow everything would be different. The impossible choice would wait there, choosing between your father and brother, your rightfull place as an heir or choosing for this, the viking life with killing and raiding. Ivar pushed his fingers in the bowl of blood, leaving marks all over his face. He never lost eye contact with you when his smiled darkened a little, promessing you that tonight would be all around him.

Strings of sunlight waked you up, making you groan a little while pulling up the sheets. You body felt tired, not really from journey but more from what Ivar did to you. He laid beside you, his naked body half covered, giving you a clear look over his chest, his well musculed arms. Outside it sounded bussy, what meant that maybe Ivar should wake to. You smiled a little while you turned on your stomach. You placed your lips just above his navel, kissing your way up, stroking your tongue over his skin sometime between kisses through. You tried to fend of his hand when he waked but he immidiatly catched your wrist. You held your lips still on his chest, looking from underneath your eyelashes towards him, his eyes were so serious you just couldn’t hold back you laugh. He pulled you towards him, kissing you slow, passionate and you moaned a little. ‘You should wake up Ivar.’ You whispered when he gave you a moment to catch your breath. ‘It’s your fault.’ He answered with a raw morningvoice, you loved that. You pulled back a little and looked at him. ‘Can I braid your hair for battle?’ ‘You can make me fully ready for battle.’ He nodded. You loved that, taking care of him. It had took you a while to love him but now you couldn’t imagine a life without him. You always wanted some adventure, breaking the rules and Ivar gave you that all. So you putted on half of your clothes before you turned to him. He was checking all his weapons while you stood after him braiding his hair and it felt like you did this for years already. In that moment you felt truly viking. When you were ready you looked at your own work before you crouched before him. ‘I can’t protect you like you protect me so you need to promise me to be safe.’ He hated it when you were concerned about him. He took a knife and shoved it in his belt before he looked at you. ‘I’m a cripple, not a fool.’ ‘But you are reckless.’ You pointed out. He rolled his eyes, tilting his head. ‘Not when you’re around,’ he began. You stepped away when he let his body slip from the chair to the ground, knowing that something would follow you kept silent. ‘impulsive, only impulsive than.’ He followed, leaving you this time to roll your eyes. Someone had prepared his chariot and awaited him before the great hall they had here in England. You found yourself an axe and stood still beside his chariot while the army gathered. Björn looked at you and then towards his brother when he walked by. ‘You taking her with you?’ He asked nodding towards you. Ivar crossed his arms over his seat and smiled almost arrogant. ‘If you want to have more than only gold in the end, yes, she’s coming.’ He answered. Great, he was going to use you, pressure enough now.

You recognized your old home from a distance. Knowing that they would seen you coming for a while now it wouldn’t take long for some messenger would arrive with the note that there was a deal with Ivar the Boneless over raiding this kingdom. And that it did. You were already close enough when he “stopped” the army. ‘We have a deal with Ivar the Boneless about raiding this kingdom.’ He announched scared. ‘Yes but I’m Björn Ironside and if I want this place I will take it.’ ‘Say I have his daughter, maybe we can go further on that arrangement.’ Ivar said not far after, changing a stubborn look with his brother. Björn looked at you, figuring the plan out that Ivar had, a plan that even you didn’t figured out yet. Björn gave in, giving his army some rest while Ivar waited on word back. You were just axious, sitting after him on the chariot, looking toward all those warriors. With your own hair braided, you different clothes and the weapons you became a whole different person. ‘Will you kill my father?’ You asked, not really looking over you shoulder to Ivar who gazed, waiting. ‘Yes,’ he answered without hessisation. ‘if he threatens you.’ ‘And if he doesn’t?’ You turned around, looked up to him. ‘He gave you away for peace. He didn’t care enough about you to fight, so I’m counting on it,’ he looked over his shoulder and gave you his cocky smile. ‘I’m looking forward to this from the day he left you with me.’ ‘And my brother?’ Your brother did nothing wrong, he was willing to fight for you. ‘Depends.’ His attention driffed away and you looked aside the chariot, looking towards an handfull of riders. You recognized the horse of your brother immidiatly. ‘Where is she?’ You heared your brother asking right away. You pushed yourself up and maked yourself visable, standing close beside the chariot of Ivar. ‘Safe and sound like I promised.’ Ivar answered. You brother looked at you, shocked, your father gave you rather filty glare. ‘Y/n? What did they do to you?’ Your brother asked. ‘Nothing really and what I did she enjoyed.’ Ivar smirked. ‘They maked you one of them? Did they hurt you?’ Your brother asked angry. ‘Now brother, it was my own choise. Ivar kept his promise.’ You whispered. All your confident slinking away under their eyes. ‘You turned faith for those pagans?’ You father reacted loudly. Your eyes went to Ivar, he had his axe already laying on the egde of his chariot. You took a deep breath and lifted your chin a little. ‘I turned viking because you never treated me as a daughter, an heir, your family. You gave me nothing.’ You maked your point. You father started laughing, loud and arrogant while your brother clenshed his teeth out of anger. ‘We should nail you to a cross for betraying your own God.’ ‘Be carefull with your words.’ Warned Ivar you father. You folded your fingers to fist, keeping your cool. It was already enough to have one hothead right aside you. ‘You’re not my daughter,  I should killed you from the moment you came back from those pagans.’ And that was it. You saw Ivar reaching for his axe, without even aiming that weapon flew right at your fathers chest. He gasped, trying to keep balance while his clothes turned red from his blood before he fell of the horse. Ivar looked aside to you and you only looked coldly back. He smiled, proud almost before turning towards your brother. ‘I will kill you for this.’ Your brother hissed. ‘Well, Y/n is heir so isn’t she the one to shout out the orders about who is gonna kill who.’ Ivar said amused. This was Ivar his plan all along, taking a kingdom by your right to rule. You looked at your fathers dead body before you looked up to your brother. ‘I will never let this kingdom fall in the hands of you vikings.’ Your brother yelled. His horse trembled on it place, reacting on the anger of his rider. ‘It’s my right.’ You said. Emotions had fadded out of your consciousness from the moment your father started threathing you. ‘If you want this kingdom so badly then take it with blood. You’re not my sister anymore and you don’t deserve any of this. You are weak!’ Were his final words before he jerked the head of his horse around and drove off with his men. ‘So be it.’ Announched Björn. ‘Make camp in the forest.’ He commanded his men. You looked towards your brother until he was out of sight before you walked to your father. You pushed your foot against his shoulder, rolling him over and took out the axe. You walked back to Ivar and gave him his axe back. He wrapped his fingers around your chin and pulled your head up so he could look at you. ‘I will make you queen.’ He promised you. It hitted you quite hard, the things your father and brother had said so the way back to the camp you didn’t say much. And Ivar let you because he knew you had to give this a place in your head. You sat against a tree, gazing at the sky, thinking about everything. You were viking and you would fight tomorrow. More than anything you wanted to show your brother that you weren’t weak, that you deserved that kingdom more than anyone.

‘I have nothing of my queen if she ends up dead on the battlefield.’ Ivar said just before taking of the next day. ‘So you want me to stay here? Did I train all those months for nothing?’ You asked angry. Ivar sighed and crawled to his chariot, pulling himself on it. ‘Stay here Y/n.’ He commanded. You slammed your hand against the chariot and gave him a angry look, he was slightly amused by it. ‘You arrogant,’ you didn’t had the right words on the moment. He pulled you closer, cupping your face while he let his bleu dark eyes sunk in yours. ‘I want you safe, alive. I’m not letting the woman I love die in battle over her own right to rule.’ He said with a solf smile. You laid your hands over his that still cupped your face. ‘I love you to. Come back Ivar.’ You whispered hardly loud enough for even him to hear it, but he did. He pulled you closer and kissed you goodbye. You stepped back, watching the army go while you stayed behind with the others, the slaves and a couple of woman and other vikings. Time was so fragile now, what looked like ages was hardly an hour and all he time you lingered by the egde of the forest, looking towards the battle you couldn’t see. You heared the horns from your brothers army, the battlecries but you saw nothing. And after some time you just lost it, walked back in the camp and looked for a horse. You pulled yourself in the saddle and leaded the horse towards the hilltop were you saw everything. You brother had a large amount of riders, you saw horses without riders, riders without horses. There were vikings laying around as much as there were soldiers dead. Your eyes looked for Ivar. You saw Björn chopping his way through the soldiers, you saw how easy he had it. And then you saw Ivar on his chariot, getting a hit against his chest from a spear. The power of it trew him from his chariot, landing with his back on the ground. The horse from the rider who caused his fall was white and turned around by command a little further. There was just one withe horse in the cavalry and it was your brother. You saw your brother taking of his helmet, walking towards Ivar with his sword in his hand, ready to take a life. You reacted out of instinct, pushing your heels in the animal you sat on. Hooves couldn’t move faster but it looked like slow motion. You clenshed your fingers around your axe, while your eyes never lost sight of Ivar and your brother. The choice was so hard earlier, in your head but now … when time was there … your swinged your axe, hitting your brother in the neck. You turned the horse and looked, shoked, how your brother dropped through his knees. Ivar looked with wide eyes towards him before he looked at you, both of you heavy breathing, startled by the thing you just did. You killed … you killed your own brother to safe him. And the kingdom was yours … by right, by power and by love.

The end 

#vikings imagine #ivar imagine #ivar x reader